


another taste of heavenly rush

by Pomfry



Series: Fics for Friends [5]
Category: Super Sons (Comics)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Bodyguard, Damian just wants to get to work, Getting Together, Jon just wants to do his job, M/M, Short One Shot, neither of them get what they want
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-03-21
Updated: 2018-03-21
Packaged: 2019-04-05 16:28:42
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,084
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14048262
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Pomfry/pseuds/Pomfry
Summary: “You’re lucky I need you for this.""You’re lucky I’m here to fix it."





	another taste of heavenly rush

**Author's Note:**

  * For [VirusZeref](https://archiveofourown.org/users/VirusZeref/gifts).



> No idea where I got bodyguard from but here it is.

Jonathan Kent is singularly the most frustrating person Damian has ever met, which is saying something because he has Jason Todd as a family member. He's cheerful in the mornings, unwilling to yield to him _despite the fact that Damian is his boss,_ and is his bodyguard. Damian doesn't know what Father was thinking when he decided to give Damian a bodyguard, but he suspects it had something to do with the fact he's had six assassination attempts on his life the last three weeks. Two were from his mother. Either way, Jonathan Kent irritates him like no other; again, an impressive feat considering the - _colorful_ personalities of his family.

(Damian does not mean that in the kindest way possible, nor does he mean it affectionately. He hates his family sometimes. Most of the time.)

“Jon,” Damian says testily, hand gripping his jacket tight. “Let me through.”

Jon, grinning brilliantly, shakes his head, leaning on the door. “You need to eat,” he says, and it should be _illegal_ to be that cheerful. Or at the very least a serious breach of the rules of his contract. “I didn't see you eat anything more than the coffee in your hands.”

Damian hisses at him. He doesn't have _time_ for this. “And _I,”_ he returns, “need to get to the office so I can seal a deal that could greatly improve our profits. Besides, you're my _bodyguard,_ not my health manager. My eating patterns are no concern of yours.”

Jon laughs, taking a step forward and making Damian retreat into the kitchen off to the side. “You're right. I'm your bodyguard. Which _means,”_ he says as he pushes Damian into a chair gently, “that I protect you, even from yourself and your appalling habits. Now.” He turns to the fridge, rustling through some food. “Eggs or pancakes? Oh, strawberries! What do you think of strawberries?”

 _”I think,”_ Damian says waspishly as Alfred meanders his way into the room, “that I should be in my car _driving to work_ so I stay able to buy food.”

Jon pokes his head above the fridge door, looking at him with the most disappointed expression on his face. “Mr. Wayne,” he says, addressing Damian as he _should,_ for once, “breakfast is the most important meal of the day.”

Damian opens his mouth to retort, Alfred curling around his ankles with a thundering purr, when the window explodes into a million different pieces, shattering like gem shards, and a bullet is buried in Damian's wall. Alfred runs out of the room, yowling, and Titus’ barks echo down the stairs. Damian blinks, a little bewildered that someone would shoot him inside his own home, and Jon barrels into him, knocking him to the floor as more bullets break more of Damian's things.

Damn, he actually liked that table.

Jon tugs him to his feet, pulling out a gun from his belt and crowding Damian behind him, eyes sharp. “My pets,” Damian murmurs in his ears, muscles tensing at his pets’ distress. Alfred was screaming and Titus was howling, and whoever this is _dared_ to do this, at his _home,_ where his precious pets stay and live and are _safe._ Damian can feel fury ignite and grow in his chest. “Jon, we need to get them out of here.”

“My priority is _you,”_ Jon says harshly, glaring at him over his shoulder. “I need to get you out of this situation and then I will consider getting your pets to safety. My job is to keep you alive and preferably uninjured, not to save pets.”

Anger crawls in Damian's veins and it's an ugly thing, one that shrieks its thoughts to the world. He bares his teeth, reaching around to his suitcase. It's packed full of papers and it's all digitized _anyways,_ so -

By the time Jon realized what Damian's doing, it's too late. Damian grabs the suitcase and darts towards the stairs, using it as a shield as he takes the stairs two at a time.

“Damian!” Jon roars after him, and there's the sound of his front door being kicked down and yet more gun fire. Damian stops in his tracks, indecision making his stomach turn. He's trained for this, but - his pets -

He whistles and Titus and Alfred come running, two black blurs that stop right at his feet. He opens the bathroom door, waving at it and they leap inside. Damian closes it, locks it, and grabs a katana he has on the wall as he sprints downstairs to the sound of Jon's pained grunt.

There's five men, one woman, all dressed in assassin garb with guns at their waists and knives in their hands. Jon's huddled behind the table, grimacing. You don't bring a gun to a knife fight.

Damian shrugs and leaps into the fray, smoothly slicing off a finger and knocking another unconscious. Two down and three to go. Easy.

He spins and catches another one of his would-be assassins in his legs, wrapping one around his neck and twisting so he would fall. He slams the butt of his sword into his head for good measure as he kicks the woman on in the stomach, pushing her towards the wall as he cuts open the stomach and possibly injuring the final one's internal organs. The woman's slumped against the wall, eyes closed. Damian hefts his katana against his shoulder and looks around. It's been quite a bit since he's had to fight. He's forgotten how fun it is.

“You're lucky I need you for this,” he says, motioning towards his table. “Good job distracting them.”

“You're lucky I'm here to fix it,” Jon says, raising an eyebrow. “There was fifteen. Their bodies are outside. I was reloading my gun.”

Damian rolls his eyes so hard it almost hurts, but, well, Jon's really attractive. And it might the adrenaline talking, but Damian takes one step and presses his lips to Jon's.

It is, not surprisingly, fantastic. And tastes of copper. Damian rather likes it.

He thinks he could get used to having this incredibly frustrating person around, if they get to kiss like this, passion and fire and a wordless _I-can't-believe-we're-alive_ mixed between. If he gets to experience the way Jon's hands run down his back to grip at his waist, soft and unwilling to let go. If he gets to be held like this, like he's something precious and loved. Yes, Damian could get used to having Jonathan Kent in his life. He guarantees it.

**Author's Note:**

> Before all of you start, Jon didn't kill them. He used non lethal measures - mainly tranquilizer darts - and was reloading when Damian came onto the scene.
> 
> Comments are always loved and brighten up my day and are saved in my Gmail.
> 
> Also! Here's my [Tumblr.](http://nikescaret.tumblr.com) Come visit and chat with me if you want!


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